


Friday Night

by yayalovesyou



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yayalovesyou/pseuds/yayalovesyou
Summary: “Come over? To your place?”“Where else would we be, Elizabeth?” He asks, sarcasm dripping from his every word.“Okay,” She relents. “Okay, I’ll come over.”“Good. You remember how to get here, right?”“Yes.”“You can actually use the front door this time, too. You don’t have to sneak in through my window like a stalker.”She resists the urge to roll her eyes. The nerve of this guy. “Oh please, do not lecture me on stalking someone.”***Beth spends her Friday night with Rio.





	Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> So....we were cheated out of Rio and Beth having sex at his (amazing) loft. And they can’t play 20 Questions for shit, so I gave them a do-over. And I’m obsessed with the fact that Rio has a $6000 chair sitting by his bed, so obviously, we have to put that to use. Enjoy!

Beth knew having to co-parent wasn’t going to be easy. Going from having her kids all the time to only half of the time was jarring to say the least. But God, it truly did  suck . And that was putting it mildly.

Divorcing Dean wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be. He kept his word and the entire process was pretty painless. She continued to work at the dealership part time, only during the kids’ school hours. They settled into a decent routine. 

The hard part was having to set up a custody arrangement. Dean got Fridays through Monday afternoon, and Beth got the remainder of the week.

But when she finally got a set routine with the kids and Dean, Beth absolutely hated the Fridays when they left to go to Dean’s place. She‘d be stressed all day, which she thought was silly. She knew he wasn’t going to pull a fast one on her and take them again, but the anxiety settled comfortably into the back of her mind and it wouldn’t go away until the kids were back with her. This particular Friday was hard, and she couldn’t really figure out why. It wasn’t the first time she’d sent the kids off for a weekend with their dad. She should be used to it by now.

Annie has Sadie for the weekend, Ruby and Stan took their kids out of town for a few days at the amusement park, and Beth was left to her own devices. And she hated it. The house was spotless so she couldn’t stress clean, she didn’t want to cook, she had even tried meditating. Nothing was working.

Beth checks the time on the microwave. It was only 9PM. There was only one other person she hadn’t tried.

In the past few months, she and Rio (or Christopher? She was still trying to wrap her head around that one.) had been on better terms. He was finally starting to trust her again when it came to the business, and they could actually have conversations without snipping at each other, and he was back casually teasing her and giving her a million and one different nicknames.

She pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket and scrolls through her contacts until she found his name. Her thumb hovers above the screen for a few seconds before biting the bullet and clicking his number and putting the phone between her ear.

“Hello?”

“Rio, hi,” Elizabeth greets.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.”

“Then why are you calling me on a Friday night?” They don’t do this, talk outside of their normal business hours. 

Beth is silent for a long while and for a moment, she considered apologizing and just hanging up. But instead she says, “I can’t sleep, and I feel a little anxious.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My kids aren’t here,” Beth starts. “When they go with their dad for the weekend, I can’t fall asleep that first night. Tonight is just...harder than most.”

“You take sleeping pills?”

“No. Why? Do you deal them?”

Rio lets out a breathy chuckle, a sound she hadn’t heard in a long while. It makes her stomach flip. “Nah,  _we_   don’t.”

“Well I guess I’m shit outta luck.”

“Did you try drinking?”

“No. I’m honestly not in the mood to drink.”

“You could always watch The Weather Channel.”

Beth rolls her eyes. Now he was just teasing her. “You should be a comedian.”

“Your merry band of misfits busy tonight?”

“Yes, the lucky ladies actually have their children with them.”

Rio doesn’t reply, mulling over what Beth just said. After a while he sighs, “Alright, so come over here.”

“W-What?”

“You’re alone and bored, come over.”

Beth was stunned into silence. She wasn’t actually angling for an invite. She just wanted someone to vent to in an attempt to starve off the boredom until the sleepiness set in.

“Come over? To your place?”

“Where else would we be, Elizabeth?” He asks, sarcasm dripping from his every word.

“Okay,” She relents. “Okay, I’ll come over.”

“Good. You remember how to get here, right?”

“Yes.”

“You can actually use the front door this time, too. You don’t have to sneak in through my window like a stalker.”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. The nerve of this guy. “Oh please, do not lecture  me on stalking someone.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Rio hangs up and Beth puts her phone down. Her mind was racing a mile a minute. What was going to happen at his place? Should she pack an overnight bag? Was she being presumptuous by even thinking that she might sleep over? Rio didn’t seem like the sleepover type.

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, Beth decides against the overnight bag and just runs straight to her en-suite to freshen up. The least she can do is run a brush through her hair and change out of her yoga pants.

* * *

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Rio greets with a slight drawl as he opens his front door. He’s casually perched against the frame, arms folded across his chest. “Or should I say, welcome back?”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nah.”

“What’s one minor break in compared to your what, hundredth?”

Rio just smirks at Beth. She looks him up and down, taking him in. He‘s wearing a white shirt, a rare occurrence. It pops against his deep tan skin, and Beth has to quickly push the thought of calling him angelic out of her mind.

Eventually, he pushes himself off of the frame to formally let Beth in. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah. Whatever you have, I’m not picky.”

“Okay.” Rio saunters into the kitchen, leaving Beth standing near the open door. She turns around to close it shut, and quickly rids herself of her shoes and coat.

Rio’s apartment is a mind fuck. She didn’t know what to expect when she broke in all those months ago (maybe something dark and brooding, akin to Bruce Wayne’s Batcave), but the light and airy, open concept loft with exposed brick was  _not_   it.

The loft is warm. Not only in temperature, but the entire atmosphere. It felt like a home, comfortable and familiar.

Beth cautiously walks around the loft, taking in all of his things with great attention to detail as if she was in a museum. She didn’t notice it before, but Rio had a lot of art. She wasn’t expecting him to have so much. Paintings, sculptures, and intricate vases shroud every corner of the spacious apartment.

“I didn’t take you as such an art connoisseur,” she says, delicately running her fingers along a particular painting.

“I visit galleries downtown all the time. Make hefty donations, too.”

“You’re so fancy, shmamcy.”

“I love nice things,” Rio replied simply. “Good art, good food, good music.”

Beth scans the room and sees his vinyl record player. She walks over to the records that were neatly organized on a shelf. “What kind of music?”

“All kinds.”

He really does have all kinds of music. The Beatles, David Bowie, James Brown, Prince, Michael Jackson, Nina Simone, Billie Holiday, Tupac, even some Bach and Beethoven. And that’s not even half of the collection.

“Classical music? Interesting.”

“I put it on when Marcus does homework,” Rio explains. “Studies show it’s good for you.”

Marcus, Beth silently thinks to herself. So  that was his son’s name. She tucks that bit of information into her brain for safekeeping.

She turns around to get a good look at Rio and see what he was doing. He‘s still in his kitchen, pouring a few drinks. It‘s weird actually seeing him in his home, in his space. He’s vulnerable and relaxed, something Beth isn’t used to seeing.

“How do you take your scotch?”

“Neat.”

“Correct answer. Watered down scotch should be a crime.”

Rio walks over to Beth and hands her a tumbler. “Thank you.”

“Cheers.”

Beth downs the drink in one sip. It was smooth, good shit. She can’t even be shocked. If she knew one thing about Rio, it was that he was clearly attracted to quality. Luxury.

Case in point, the chair by his bed. “You have an Eames chair. And the ottoman.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You know how expensive these things are?”

“Yeah, I bought it,” Rio teases, his tone light.

“It’s gorgeous and I’m jealous.” Beth walks over to the chair and touches the leather.

“You can sit in it, darling, I won’t bite.”

Beth sits down and sinks into the chair, letting the buttery softness envelop her. She has to will herself to not involuntarily moan. He sits down on his bed a few feet away, letting his head hit the headboard.

And they‘re back to silence. But Beth doesn’t mind. She doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with bullshit conversation or distract herself by awkwardly looking around. 

Beth doesn’t really know how to feel, being so...comfortable in Rio’s space. She was expecting to be on edge, buzzing with nervous energy. But she isn’t. The atmosphere is calm and she feels content. And that‘s the real mind fuck. 

Beth glances over to get a better look at Rio. He isn’t doing anything, just absentmindedly reading something on his phone, maybe a text or an email.

“Hey, let’s play 20 Questions again,” Beth suggests.

“Because that worked out well the last time, right?”

“Well, why don’t we actually play it the way it’s supposed to be played.”

Rio bites his lip in amusement and shrugs because, sure, why not? It’s not like they have anything better to do. “You want to start?”

“Why do you have a turtle keychain?”

“My son bought it for me as a Father’s Day gift.”

“Does give you a lot of random knick knacks?” Beth laughs at the thought. She had an entire drawer in her bedroom of random things her kids had given her: homemade birthday cards, paper-mache flowers, macaroni necklaces with too much glue, the works. Did every parent have that drawer? Or box?

“It’s not your turn to ask the question, Elizabeth.”

“Fine. You go.”

“What do you usually do when you don’t have your kids?”

“Usually, Annie or Ruby can keep me company. Or I’ll sometimes sneak into the dealership and get some of the DMV paperwork done, just to keep myself busy. Sometimes I’ll clean, or cook.”

“I was your last resort,” Rio says. Not a question, but a statement.

“You were,” Beth confirms.

“Alright. Your turn.”

“Why do you spell my name so weirdly?”

That one throws Rio for a loop. “Excuse me?”

“Your capital ‘ E’s ’ are weird,” Beth starts.“You put ‘ R’s ’ instead.”

It had became such a habit, Rio almost forgets that he does it. “I don’t know. I guess I just like putting a piece of my name in yours. And you’ll always know it from me that way.”

Beth has to put her head down and looked at her lap in an attempt to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. Whether he meant to sound sappy or not isn’t the question, because she feels like a giddy teenager either way.

“My turn. How’d your divorce proceedings go?”

Suddenly it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “God, you’re really diving deep here. No soft questions.” Beth awkwardly pulls at the hem of her shirt. “It was pretty boring and straightforward. Dean didn’t try to fight me, thankfully. He gets weekends, I have the kids during the week. It’s all standard.”

Rio nods, absorbing the information. It was good that Dean didn’t put up a fight. It might’ve been the smartest thing he’d ever done.

“Is your name really Christopher?” Beth asks.

Rio smirks in amusement, the question slightly throwing him off-kilter. “Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“My mom is a super devout Catholic,” Rio explains, without prompting. “And long story short, Christopher means  Christ-bearer. And it’s the name of one of the saints . Rio is a nickname. Short for Mario, my middle name.”

Beth wasn’t expecting such an explanation. She just wanted a yes or no answer. “So should I call you Christopher?”

He laughs, a genuine one. “Not in public, darling. I have an image to maintain.”

“So the implication is that I can call you Christopher in private.”

“You can call me whatever you want to in private, sweetheart. Scream it to high heavens, if you must.”

Beth looks up at him, shooting him a pointed glare. “You are...so infuriating.”

“What?”

“Must you be so lewd at all times?”

“Only for you, Elizabeth,” he shoots back. “We only have twelve questions left. Make ‘em count.”

“How do you do the co-parenting thing? Because I’m struggling.”

“Thankfully I co-parent with someone who isn’t Dean.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that helps,” Beth agrees humorlessly.

“But seriously? I’m not going anywhere and Marcus’ mom isn’t going anywhere. We’re tethered for life, so we might as well make the most of it. And we love him more than we could ever hate each other.“

“Has it always been easy?”

“Not at all,” Rio says with a snort. “I’ve known his mom since we were kids, we were friends in our old neighborhood. She always knew who I was, what I did. But of course, when she got pregnant, it became a problem. Her entire pregnancy and the first year of Marcus’ life was a battle, but we’re good now. She’s living in the suburbs, married to an orthodontist or some shit like that. He’s an okay dude. Corny as hell, but decent.

“Ten questions left,” Beth announces. “Your turn.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Beth gives him the most incredulous look she can muster up, but Rio just shrugs in reply. “I think I have a decent grasp of all the major stuff about you. Tell me all the little stuff.”

“You gotta do the same.”

“Within the confines of 20 Questions, I’m an open book, baby.”

“My favorite color is red,” Beth answers after pondering it for a few seconds. “It’s a good color. Strong, bold.”

“Sexy,” Rio adds. “You look good in red.”

“Thank you.” Beth realizes its her turn. “You have siblings?”

“Two loud, obnoxious, annoying sisters. One older than me, one younger. Maria and Gabriella. If you can’t tell, my mom was really into naming her children after saints and angels.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“She’s a sweet lady. The woman wouldn’t harm s fly.” Rio finds himself getting lost in the thought of his mom, but he reels himself back in. “Alright, what was your best subject in school?”

“English. Mostly because I love reading.”

“What, were you into Shakespeare or the Brontë sisters?”

“I was a poetry lover. I read a lot of Sylvia Plath.“

“Six questions left.”

”What was your favorite subject?”

“Math.”

“Nerd.”

Rio rolls his eyes at the jab. “Math is truly the easiest subject when you think about it. There’s no sugar coating it, no room for subjectivity. It’s straightforward and clean cut. You have dueling points of views in history, opposing theories in the sciences, a million different ways to say something when it comes to English or any language, but mostly English because it’s so convoluted, but not math. No matter who you are, where you’re from, what language you speak, math is math. Two plus two will always equal four.”

“Interesting take. You’re still a nerd though.”

Rio swings his legs to the side of the bed and hops up. He takes the few steps in Beth’s direction and within moments, he’s hovering over her.

“Call me a nerd again, Elizabeth.”

There’s no malice in his tone, and Beth catches the teasing glint in his eyes. He’s goading her.

Suddenly, goosebumps break out onto her arm. She lifts her chin up to show she’s not intimidated and won’t back down. “You’re a n-“

She can’t even finish her sentence because he’s on top of her, kissing her roughly.

Everything about Rio is overwhelming and all encompassing. His touch (warm), his taste (Minty. Maybe spearmint, to be more specific but Beth didn’t care), his smell (God, he smelled amazing. It was a mix between something spicy and woody, with a touch of something sweet to balance it out), his sounds (always deep and gravelly enough to make her knees buckle), all of it. And he poured all of that into every kiss, every touch, every interaction that they shared, no matter how big or small.

He leans forward, putting more of his weight onto Beth, and she can’t even bring herself to care about how heavy he is because he’s biting her lip, and all she can think about is how  good it feels.

Beth reaches up and slips her hand underneath his shirt, feeling his muscles appreciatively. He groans into Beth’s mouth at the contact and she smirks. She likes that she has such an effect on him.

He breaks the kiss and Beth whines at the loss of contact. Deciding to put his hands to good use, Rio grabs the hem of Beth’s shirt and lifts it over her head, throwing it haphazardly across the room. His hands travel down and he roughly yanks down the zipper on her jeans and tugs them past her knees. Beth finishes the job and kicks her legs wildly, the jeans sliding off of the chair and onto the floor.

Beth is extremely aware of how underdressed she is, despite Rio still being fully clothed. 

She fumbles with his belt buckle for a second before getting annoyed and just pushing the jeans off of his body along with his boxers.

“Sheesh mama, have some patience.”

“Shut up.”

Rio settles himself between Beth’s legs, props up on his knees, and assists Beth by taking his own shirt off. She has half a mind to say ‘thank you’ but she decides against it.

He’s just as impatient as she is though. He doesn’t even bother taking her panties off, just pulls them to the side and thrusts inside her.

Beth’s hands grip onto Rio’s back and her fingers dig roughly into his back. He groans into her ear and it just might be the sexiest noise Beth’s ever heard.

Not wanting to just lay there like a mannequin, Beth raises her hips up, trying to match Rio’s extremely frantic pace. Not that she minds that much because it’s still  good , but she doesn’t really want this to be over as quickly as it started.

“Rio...” Beth breathes out, gripping his forearm, trying to get his attention. It doesn’t work, and he thrusts into her, hitting a particularly sensitive spot, and Beth gasps. “Oh, fuck!” Okay she was doing a horrible job at getting his attention. “Time out, time out.”

Rio stills and looks at her. His features instantly soften. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just...I want to be more in the moment with you.”

Beth kind of expects Rio to tease her for being so sappy, but he doesn’t. He leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve never had someone call a time out during sex before.”

“It was the first thing I could think of.”

“It was very on brand for you. Cute.” Beth just hums. She hooks her leg around his hip and flips them over. “Oof! You’re stronger than you look, mama.”

“I think it’s the yoga. I’ve taken up yoga recently.”

“Oh yeah?”

Beth rotates her hips, setting a much slower pace than they just experienced. “I’m not letting you bend me like a pretzel.”

Rio reaches up to grab her hips, his fingers digging in so deep, Beth’s sure she’s going to have bruises. “I’ll get you there eventually.”

Beth’s hands roam Rio’s tan skin and they settle on his tattoo. She gently scrapes her nails across his neck, eliciting a groan from him.

A soft moan escapes Beth’s lips and soon that’s the only sound that fills the room: her breathy moans and Rio’s quiet, restrained ones.

She feels one of Rio’s hands loosen their vice-like grip on her hip and she whimpered when she felt his thumb press against her clit, circling it at an agonizingly slow pace. He was such a fucking tease.

Her brain is a complete fog and she doesn’t think she could form a coherent thought in this moment if she tried. She’s so close, she can almost taste it. 

Beth’s stomach coils up tightly and she thrusts her hips forward one, two more times and she’s there, her orgasm nearly taking the breath out of her lungs. Rio’s right there behind her, his own orgasm coming a few moments later.

Beth falls forward and drops a kiss onto Rio’s shoulder, not caring that he’s a sweaty mess. She feels tired and boneless.

“Having sex on a chair is not as fun as it seems,” She says, giggling at how cramped they are.

“You like the chair.”

“I do. But at forty-one, I don’t think I’m meant to bend this way anymore.”

“You do yoga now, you’ll be aight.”

“My yoga isn’t that good. I’m still old.”

“You aren’t old.”

“I’m getting there.”

Beth moves over slightly so her head is his his chest. She can feel his heart steadily beating under her cheek.

They stay in the quiet for a long time, neither one wanting to break the moment. It’s peaceful.

But finally Rio speaks, “We still have four questions.”

“You ask first,” Beth orders. She’s too tired to form a question.

“Why’d you marry car man?“

The question isn’t what Beth expects, not by a long shot. What happened to the easy ones, like her favorite color? “I was a kid. And Dean was popular, came from a good home, had a boyish charm. He offered a stability I never had growing up. And I stayed for so long because I wanted my kids to have what I didn’t have.“

“You bit the bullet and did what you had to do. I can respect it.”

“Am I the only one?” Beth blurts out. 

Rio looks at her, confused by what she means. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I want to know if I’m the only one you’re having sex with,” She clarifies. “I just want to know what we’re doing, if we’re just keeping this casual, if I should get tested for STDs-“

“Yes,” Rio says. “You’re the only one I’m sleeping with. You’re the only one I’ve slept with in a really long time. And no, I don’t have STDs. Do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Two questions left.”

“I’m good. I’ll save mine for a later date.”

“That’s not how it works, mama.”

“Last time we played this game, no questions were answered, I don’t think you can act so morally opposed to a little rule bending.”

“Touché.” Rio taps her thigh, signaling her to move over. She was right, the chair was not the best place to do this. But it was a fun experiment.

Beth gets off of him, and Rio grabs her hand and steadies her before she falls backwards onto the floor. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces. “You’re more than welcome tojoin me.”

“I’m not having shower sex with you.”

“Okay, Elizabeth.”

They do end up having sex in his (ridiculously large, open, door-less waterfall) shower. And Rio gives her a sweater (cashmere of course) and some sweatpants to sleep in. And before she leaves the next morning, he makes her the best spinach and mushroom frittata she’s ever eaten, though she doesn’t tell him that. She can’t feed his ego too much.

* * *

It’s a week later when Beth gets a knock on her door, bright and early in the morning.

It’s a man, with a large box standing in her doorway. “Delivery for Elizabeth Boland.”

Beth shakes her head. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Are you Elizabeth Boland?” The delivery man asks.

“Yes.”

He scans his paper. “It says here that it’s a gift for you. Where should I put it?”

Beth signs for the delivery and moves out of the doorway to let the man through. When he’s gone, she opens the box and to her surprise, it’s a deep red, almost cranberry leather chair. But not just any chair. An Eames chair. She digs through the box until she finds a receipt. At the bottom, there was a note.

‘ _Because you loved mine so much, enjoy._

_P.S. invite me over so we can break it in, yeah? ;)_

_-R’_

Beth smiles to herself as she tosses the note back into the box. “That charming bastard.”


End file.
